


The Little Dead Boy

by Quirkyasfok



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst and Feels, Character Study, Hyuuga Neji-centric, Not Beta Read, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:34:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24879274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quirkyasfok/pseuds/Quirkyasfok
Summary: The Side Branch of the Hyuuga clan have a poem they like to share with one another. The poem holds an important message. A warning. It tells you how to behave in front of the Main Branch. It tells you what happens when you don't.Neji first hears this poem when he is very young.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	The Little Dead Boy

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking about nursery rhythms the other day and how messed up they are, and then I started thinking about the Hyuuga clan and how messed up they are, and then I was like "Hey, what if I combine the two!"
> 
> and thus this was born. ... well, I wrote a poem instead of a nursery rhyme, but similar intentions. 
> 
> Apologizes in advance for any and all spelling/grammar mistakes.

“Hey, Hizashi have you taught little Neji here the poem yet?”

Neji looks up at the strange man that spoke before looking back to his father who looks slightly uncomfortable with the change in topic.

“I didn’t feel like he was old enough yet,” his father replies.

“Oh, nonsense,” a woman speaks up this time. She has a mark on her forehead like his father. All the strangers sitting around them do. “Your never to young to hear the poem!”

“Yea,” another man interjects. “Probably best to learn it young anyway. The sooner you know the better off you are!”

The whole group share a laugh at that. Neji guesses since he doesn’t know the poem, he doesn’t get the joke.

“So, Neji,” the first man speaks again. He tries not to let his displeasure show as the man leans into his space with breath smelling strongly of alcohol. “Would you like to hear the poem?”

He glances to his father for help. His father just shrugs.

“It’s up to you, Neji. You’re a big boy now, remember?”

Ah, yes. Right. He is a big boy now. It’s something his father has been saying a lot to him lately. That he is a big boy who is about to have a bunch of new big boy responsibilities. He is a big boy who needs to make his own decisions.

He turns back to the man with the stinky breath.

“What’s the poem about,” he asks.

The man smirks.

“It’s a warning,” he says. “It’s a warning about how you should always behave around the Main Branch.”

Neji nods, because though he may not know a lot about the things he’s heard the adults talk about tonight he does know about the Main Branch.

“What’s the poem called?”

The man laughs.

“The Little Dead Boy.”

\--  
_Dead boy, Dead boy_  
_Why did you move? Keep your head bowed._  
_Eyes to the floor._  
\--

Neji thinks about the poem. When he first heard it, he didn’t understand it. He didn’t understand why all the adults had laughed at something that seemed so sad. He didn’t get what happened to the boy. He didn’t get what it had to the Main Branch.

He just didn’t get it.

But then he watched his own uncle activate the strange mark on his father’s head. He had that same mark painfully branded onto his own forehead. And then…

Then he watched as they killed his father, and carried his body away.

On the first night alone Neji lays awake. On the first night without his father there to hold him close and chase away the fears Neji recites the poem aloud, because he gets it now.

Before he didn’t, but now he does.

He doesn’t understand why they laughed though.

But he gets the poem.

So, he lays awake deep into the night reciting the poem of “The Little Dead Boy” over and over again with tears in his eyes, because he finally gets it now.

\--  
_Dead boy, Dead boy_  
_Why did you speak? You know to be polite._  
_Never be rude._  
\--

He ignores the stares of the elders as he trains with his cousin. The make his skin crawl. They make him angry.

He hates them. He hates his uncle. He hates HER.

He watches as she messes up again.

Again. Again. Again.

He forgets the warning. He forgets who he is. Where he is.

His anger surges and he strikes.

Then he’s sailing through the air and landing on the ground hard enough to have the wind knocked out of him. He has a second to breath again. A second to remember who is. A second to remember what just happened and then there’s nothing but pain.

Never ending, torturous pain.

It goes on and on and on, and in the second just before he passes out it occurs to him.

He is the dead boy.

\--  
_Dead boy, Dead boy_  
_Why did you let it show? I know your mad._  
_But this is something they should never know._  
\--

He promised Gai-Sensei.

He promised. He promised.

The elders aren’t here. His uncle isn’t here. Just her, his team, and strangers.

He tries to keep his anger in check, but it’s her. She had always made him the angriest.

She’s just so weak.

The thing is he wants her to be strong. He wants her to fight. Prove to him that her life is worth it. Prove to him that she isn’t hopeless. Prove to him that maybe, just maybe, she can protect herself.

But she doesn’t.

It’s like she doesn’t care that his father was dead because of her. It’s like she doesn’t care that because of her he is nothing more than a slave. A puppet. A shield.

A dead boy.

He strikes. They stop him.

The fight ends. He is declared the winner.

He doesn’t feel like one.

\--  
_Dead boy, Dead boy_  
_I hear your screams. I know your pain._  
_I’ve felt it too._  
\--

“I was wondering if we could train together?”

He stares at her. For the most part she looks as she always has, but there’s a difference.

She’s looking at him. Not down. Not away.

At him.

He thinks about the past couple of months.

He thinks of Lee who’s still healing in the hospital, but surprising people everyday with just how well he’s recovering. He thinks of his Sensei who told him how proud he was even when he didn’t win. Even when he had broken his promise. He thinks of the adults that held him back during the exam in a way that didn’t cause him pain. He thinks of Naruto who promised to help him even when he himself had done nothing but degrade him. He thinks of his father and the truth of what really occurred all those years ago.

“Okay,” he says.

She smiles revealed, and moves to take her own stance. He blinks confused.

“What are you doing,” he asks.

“I,” she stares back at him just as confused. “Y-you said we could train together, right? Are we not-”

“No,” he interrupts. If it was anyone else, they scold him for this. “I mean shouldn’t we go to the compound first?”

“Would you like to train at the compound? Y-you always seem uncomfortable there. I thought you might be more comfortable to train with me here.”

She gestures to the space around them. It’s his own teams training ground. A safe place far away from judging eyes and harsh realities. He’d been training here alone until she’d shown up.

“I am more comfortable training here, yes.”

“Then lets train here.”

She smiles at him. She knows just like he does means training here means there’s no one watching them. No one to stop him.

She takes her stance.

He strikes.

She meets him halfway. She stands her ground. She strikes back.

For the first time he realizes that though he may be a dead boy he isn’t dead yet.

\--  
_Dead boy, Dead boy_  
_Your mark is gone. We’ve all said goodbye._  
_Was freedom worth the cost of your life?_  
\--

Around him his teammates… his friends are laughing.

“I can’t believe you guys actually have a nursery rhyme like that!”

“Listen,” Shikamaru says. “Deer are crazy. Especially, the ones that chill around my clan.”

On either side of him Ino and Choji shiver with looks of terror on their faces. He wonders briefly if they’d had a personal experience with these suppose crazy Nara deer.

“Oh man.” He turns to see Naruto wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “That was a good one Shikamaru. Anybody else got one? How about you guys?” He turns his eyes to Hinata before looking to him as well. “The Hyuuga clan has to have some story or rhymes or something?”

“Um,” his cousin begins. He watches as she brings her hands to her chest. Her eyes traveling from Naruto, to the fire, and then lastly to him. “I-I don’t know of any. Do you know any Neji-nii-san?”

He thinks.

He nods.

“Yea, it’s more of a poem though,” he begins. Off to the side he can hear Kiba snort. He ignores him. “Another Side Branch member shared it with me when I was very young.”

Next to him Lee claps.

“What’s it about? What’s it about?”

“It’s about… it’s a warning… it tells you how to behave around the Main Branch.”

Around him he can feel the mood begin to shift.

“Does it have a name,” Tenten asks. Her voice is oddly soft. He notes that Lee is no longer clapping.

He nods.

“It’s called “The Little Dead Boy”.”

“Could… could you share it with us?”

He glances up and meets Naruto’s eyes from across the fire.

He nods and begins to recite:

_“Dead boy, Dead boy_  
_Why did you move? Keep your head bowed._  
_Eyes to the floor._  
_Dead boy, Dead boy_  
_Why did you speak? You know to be polite._  
_Never be rude._  
_Dead boy, Dead boy_  
_Why did you let it show? I know your mad._  
_But this is something they should never know._  
_Dead boy, Dead boy_  
_I hear your screams. I know your pain._  
_I’ve felt it too._  
_Dead boy, Dead boy_  
_Your mark is gone. We’ve all said goodbye._  
_Was freedom worth the cost of your life?”_

He remembers how when he first heard the poem recited around him people had laughed.

Nobody is laughing now.

Nobody, but him.

He chuckles as the other’s stare at him with looks of sadness and horror.

He finally gets it.

He finally understands why they had laughed all those years ago.

They are all dead boys just like him

and it so much better to laugh than to cry.


End file.
